


Bottle of Happiness

by Xenblitzzz



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (kinda?), Angst, Childhood Friends, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28683327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenblitzzz/pseuds/Xenblitzzz
Summary: From grade school to high school they were always together, inseparable.Yet Dream's heart always felt empty when he looked at George.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Bottle of Happiness

He was a grade-schooler when he first met George, the boy offering to help when he fell and grazed his knee, the small buds of friendship being planted in the ground. 

  
  


_ Hey George, it’s been so long since we talked. I miss you.  _

  
  


From that day onwards they were inseparable, the two bonding over the simplest of things, from their favorite superhero to their favorite colour, they knew everything about each other. 

The buds bloom into flowers, beautiful and precious.

They were in high school when he first started to notice how his heart would jump into his throat every time he thought of George, and how his face would heat up when the two were together. He started to notice every small detail, like how George’s hair would shimmer when the sun hit it just right, and how his eyes were a soft hazel, always warm and welcoming. Dream often found himself lost in those eyes, wanting to bury his fingers in those soft brown locks and hold the smaller boy close. He was in love.

  
  


_ I spend nights thinking of you, of how beautiful your eyes are, and how amazing you are. I’m a coward, I know, and I know I never got the chance to say this to you, but I love you. _

  
  


Visits to the beach were frequent, the two sitting in the golden sand and watching the waves wash away their worries.

“Hey Dream?”

“Hm?”

“I like the way your hair looks, it reminds me of the sand, it feels special.”

Not another word was exchanged, the rhythmic sounds of the waves hiding the sound of Dream’s heart pounding against his chest.

Visits to the barbers became less frequent since that day.

  
  


Seeds of love scatter around the flowers, digging themselves into the ground below.

  
  


His heart stung whenever he saw George with someone else, his mind filling with “what ifs” and worry spread through his body. The hazel-eyed boy has his heart wrapped around his finger, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s fallen, hard.

It was another visit to the beach, the trips becoming more and more infrequent between the two. Dream cherished the time spent at the beach, it felt as if he could have George all to himself, and he drowned himself in that feeling.

“Dream?”

“Yes, George?”

“I’m going overseas for my college.”

“Ah. I’m happy for you George.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He watched as his world came crashing down, one tower at a time. 

The first leaves of autumn come falling down, and with it, the flowers start to wilt, and yet, the seeds dig them deeper into the ground.

There are nights, when he clutches his pillow and cries, he cries his heart out, tears falling down his face, he looks miserable. It’s painful, it’s so painful. His heart cries out to one person, and one person alone.

He pretends like nothing is wrong afterwards, he pretends to be happy, to be happy for George, even if his own heart is crumbling down with each word the doe eyes man says. After all, that’s what friends are supposed to do.

  
  


_ I miss the nights spent on the beach with you, I miss the calls, I miss how we would spend hours under the shade of a tree, talking and laughing. _

  
  


Sometimes he dreams, he dreams of simpler times, when they were just children playing under the shade of trees, talking about mindless things and laughing. And other times he dreams of a future, a future where George stays, stays with Dream, the two happy together as if there was nothing else in the world, no worries, no pain, lost in each other’s embrace. It’s nice, he thinks, it feels like he’s flying, soaring above the clouds, but then it all comes crashing down, because he knows, he knows that it’ll never happen, he knows that George will not stay. He spends those nights crying, a George sized hole in his heart.

It’s the night before he leaves. They’re at the beach, the two not saying a word, choosing to cherish the last bit of time they will spend together, the sound of the ocean cutting through the silence as George plays with his hair. 

“Hey George?” He says, his voice small and wobbly.

“Yes Dream?”

“Remember to call me ok?”

“I will.”

Dream feels his eyes sting, tears threatening to fall. He tries to memorize every last detail, afraid he will lose it all if he doesn’t, the way George’s face looks, illuminated by the light of the moon, and the way his eyes soften as he looks at the dirty blond locks that lay in his hands. He wants to stay like this forever.

“I like it when you play with my hair.”

  
  
  


They spend hours on the phone together, talking about mindless things and laughing, enjoying each other’s presence, but that doesn’t last forever, the talks become more infrequent, what once were nights spent talking now turn into short talks, and eventually into nothing at all. And through all of this, the hole in Dream’s heart grows, thorns wrapping themselves around.

  
  


_ Thank you, George, for making me happy, thank you for being my happiness. _

  
  


The flowers die, surrounded by the growing seeds of love planted.

With his eyes sore from crying and his mind fuzzy with the thoughts of hazel eyes, he writes a letter, pouring his heart and soul into it, his everything. His hands are wobbly as he writes, the paper wet with tears. He puts the letter into a bottle.

His feet dig into the golden sand of the beach, the waves calling out to him. He steps forward, walking until the water reaches his knees, the bottle clutched tight in his hands. He gently lowers the bottle into the water, watching as it floats away, disappearing. His heart feels a little bit lighter.

The flowers rotted, while the seeds begin to die, making room for new seeds to be planted.

  
  


_ I love you, goodbye. _

  
  


Goodbye, my bottle of happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and criticism is always appreciated!
> 
> In case you didn't know, the text in italic is the letter that Dream had written :)


End file.
